


Healing Hands

by OwlSphinx



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlSphinx/pseuds/OwlSphinx
Summary: You are a junior doctor who loves what they do. You live to work and find little time for anything else. That is until a certain Knight of Ren piques your interest...





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

You awoke to the faint bleep of your holo padd piercing your slumber. Eyes open, you could see the un-natural, blue sunrise it cast across your neutral, grey wall across from your bed.

Fuck.You were going to have to get up to shut it off. 

Past you had thought it was such a good idea.

Past you was an asshole.

Groaning at the insistent crescendo of the blasted device, you sat up and flung your covers aside. You could already tell today would be a busy day. After swiping at the screen several times, it finally registered your touch and shut off the alarm. Opening your email, you saw that two separate doctors were going to be off sick. This would normally not be too much of a problem, except that there were already several patients booked into the medical unit this morning for standard and follow up procedures, plus several ships due to return from off-base, which almost always meant some extra wounded to attend to. Field medics could only do so much without the sterile, clinical setting of the medi-bay. It was days like today that junior-doctors like yourself were unspokenly promoted to fully-fledged doctors. You were going to need double the coffee to get through this shift, STAT!

Having gone through your morning routine on autopilot, you made your way down the nondescript cooridoors towards the medi-bay ready to clock in. Though you had done nothing but complain to yourself about the day ahead of you, you secretly smiled to yourself too. The truth was you loved days like this. You loved your profession, even though you were yet to be fully initiated. ou loved the chaos and the un-predictability; loved the way you were required to think on your feet at all times. Your mind had always hated to be left idle for long.

No sooner had the doors swung open, you were met with a bustling scene. Several Storm troopers were occupying medical cotts with a variety of ailements. The first mission must have landed already. You placed your bag into your locker and found Dr Drayton, chief medical officer abord the finalise and your superior and mentor. The smile that spread across his features on seeing you was both warm and greatful.

"Thank fuck someone competent is showing up this morning! We're going to be fucking busy!" He murmered, his current patient sedated and thus unable to hear this less than professional exchange. You loved the way he spoke like any normal person. He was one of the few staff high up in this place who was not up themselves.

"Tell me about it... Where's Mirriam?" You replied, grabbing a folder he was signaling for you to pick up from his desk.

"Out too... That's four of us out this morning now. Some bout of the flu from what I can tell. Hazard of the job I guess. This is literally it kid, everyone in here at this very moment." he answered, cursing under his breath as he tried to relocate his current patients shoulder to no success. Dropping the folder on the bed, you placed one hand on his chest and one at the base of the neck and pushed, your superior pulling simultaneously. There was a satisfying pop and the person beneath your hands groaned in relief, even in their unconscious state.

Picking up the folder again you flicked through the contents. Trooper number BZ-848: deep laceration above the eye and to the neck. Stitching required and possible laser cautorization. 

"He's in bay 6... You can do this, I know you can. I've overseen you a thousand times.' he reassured you as he removed his gloves and washed up ready to move on to the next. The trust he placed in your ability only spurred you on as you scrubbed up and made your way to bay 6.

The day went by in the blink of an eye. Busy days always did. Before long you were 10 hours deep into a 12 hour shift and helping to clean down the unit. A deep rumble reverberated from your abdomen, reminding you that you had neglected to feed yourself since you rose this morning.

"Go eat. I've got this. It's the start of sleep cycle already, I doubt we'll be having many in from now." Drayton said, poking his head around the door of his office. you were about to protest when your stomach sounded again, rather putting a foot in your point of denial about needed a break.

"Go, for fuck sake! That's an order. Besides, I'm going to have to ask you to be on call tonight based on our lack of staff. I'd feel much better doing that if I know you've had a chance to eat." Drayton added.

Nodding, you finished wiping down the surface you were working on and collected your things. Just before you could leave the bay you heard your superiors voice call out of his office...

"You did well today by the way kid. You should be proud!", causing a smile to creep onto our face. You genuinely believed the sincerity of his words.

Having eaten a questionable dinner in the caffeteria, you made your way back to your quarters and showered the day off of you. You had just made a hot chocolate and settled down with a book when you padd dinged.

To: Junior Med 3471  
From: Dr Drayton

URGENT: Request for assistance in surgery room 3b ASAP. Sorry kid!

You put your mug down and threw on your shoes, barely remembering to grab your key card before flying out of the door and down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Peculiar Patient

Chapter 2

On entering the medi-unit you are surprised to see not a soul around. All patients seem to have been either discharged or transferred. You almost begin to belive you have come to the wrong unit until you hear Drayton's voice from through the double doors leading to surgery.

"That you kid?"

"Yeah." you reply, scrubbing up for the millionth time that day and pulling the surgery scrubs over your casual wear. When you are suitably prepared, you enter the surgery room and are greeted with only Dr Drayton in the room. Odd.

"Really sorry to pull you into this one kid, but I needed someone I could trust to keep their head for this one." He starts. 

"It's fine," you sooth, picking up an unusually nervous energy surrounding your mentor, "So what've we got?"

"All I know is it's gotta be someone high up. We've been requested to clear the area, hence the lack of patients." Drayton offers, gesturing to the empty bay outside the surgery.

"Well Phasma is still on base, so it's unlikely to be her, and Hux is almost never in the middle of the action... Do you think..." You leave the question hanging unfinished, but Drayton follows your thinking.

"Those were my thoughts exactly. He's been out on a mission. It fits. But we won't know for sure until they arrive." he replies.

You both swallow your fear and busy yourselves making sure all possible equipment is out and ready, just in case. There are no details about what sort of injury you will be facing.

Not 10 minutes after you arrived you hear the doors to the medibay open and see a mysterious black mass heading towards the beds through the frosted glass. Leaving the surgery room, Drayton and yourself are met with the sight of three men clad head to toe in black, each with a mask hiding their features. The two either side are supporting the third between them. He is barely standing, arms slung over the other two for support. He is a formidable and overbearing presence even in his wounded state, towering above you all. You can barely believe the other two men are able to support his weight.

Across his abdomen you can see a deep slash and dark blood oozing out and soaking the thick material around the wound. Could be a shot, could be a slash... You wouldn't be able to tell until you were able to better examine him.

"Commander Ren!" Drayton addresses whilst bowing his head in respect for his superior. You quickly follow suit worldessly, "Right through here gentlemen if you wouldn't mind assisting us the last few feet.", he continued, gesturing for them to bring him through to the surgery suite.

You could almost believe that he was actually unconscious until you heard a strangled groan as the two knights hoist him onto the bed. Good lord. How was he not screaming in agony? You instinctively reach for the morphine but are stopped by the knight to your right...

"No pain relief. In fact nothing which will alter the Commander's mental state at all. That's an order." states the knight. The words sound strange coming from the modulator. Cold and un-feeling. He looks from you over to his master who nods briefly, signaling to him that he is correct before leaning his head back and adjusting his legs to better lay on the bed, again making huffing noises at the effort and pain it no doubt causes.

"You are dismissed." are the first words you have ever heard the Commander speak. You'd never even seen him other that at a great distance until now, let alone heard him. Though just as robotic, his voice seems deeper and more authoritative, even in his current state.

The two knights give a quick shallow bow and take their leave of the medi-unit, leaving only yourself, Dr Drayton and the Commander. You swallow and take the scissors the Doctor is handing you.

"We shall have to cut the material away to gain access Commander. Apologies. I hope this outfit was not a favourite of yours!" Drayton chirps, putting on his typical 'trying to put the patient at ease' voice. It seems odd to use on your current patient, like using a babyish tone towards a parent.

"Do what you must." The Commander urges tightly. Even through the heavy modification of the voice you can hear the strain in it. You take that as your signal to go and begin cutting away at the material, careful not to nudge the wound with the blades. It's hard to see, past all the blood, what's material and what is torn flesh, but thank the stars you don't cut anything unintended. Once you are done it is clear that he has been sliced with some kind of blade. There is a laceration about 6 inches wide reaching across from his navel to the left side of his body. It is deep and still bleeding heavily.

"Your prognosis?" the Commander asks in an impatient tone. You swallow the irritation that spikes at the Doctor beign spoken to in that manner and begin packing the wound to try and staunch the bleeding. You were expecting Dr Drayton to reply to the Commander, but look up when you realise that he hasn't. To your suprise, The Commander is looking directly at you instead of your superior. Looking at the Doc who nods once in a 'you got this' kind of manner, you clear your throat and surprise yourself with how confident your voice sounds.

"We will need to scan the area, but first we will need to slow the bleeding. Once we are sure all organs are in tact we can stitch you up and use a laser to seal the bulk of the wound." 

"Obviouslly. But what is your predicted heal time doctor... Or shall I say... Junior?" he spits. It takes a great deal of effort for you not to rise to the disrespect lacing his voice.

" I predict 6-8 weeks heal time will be in order minimum. Ideally it would be 2 months." You look over to the Doc who nods again, pleased with your assessment.

"Impossible. I am out on a mission in a week." he replied coldly. "Get me a more compitent doctor."

Hell no. Dr Drayton began to interject about how you were the most compitent doctor he'd seen rise through the ranks in decades, but you were having none of it. You didn't need a pep talk, you needed the Commander to shut the fuck up and let you do your job. The anger boiling in your chest at the Commander's immaturity bubbled up and you found yourself interjecting the interjection with authority you didn't know you had.

"You asked for a prognosis and I gave you one. If you wanted an apeasment, well then you should have asked an unqualified quack to assess you. Either you let us treat you correctly or not at all. I will not have 'allowing a superior die due to stuborness' black listing my name before I'm even barely qualiied." You replied snarkily. There was a horrifically long, silent pause. An uncomfortable cadence hung in the air, and you had all but resigned to being force choked on the spot. Maybe it was the amount of pain he was undoubtedly in, or maybe it was the steely look in your eye, but he again gave a single nod and with that, you and the doctor got to work.

After 4 long hours you are finally closing the final stich on the Commander's wounds. Doc had left the last few to you whilst he went and began the mountain of paperwork involved in pain medication and anestetic refusals. 

The Commander was stable, his organs somehow having been left in tact. The bleeding has stopped almost entirely and you were confident he was through the worst. He again refused pain medication when you offered it and you found yourself wondering for the thousandth time how he had managed to remain conscious and lucid throughout. You almost wished he hadn't considering the continuous string of berrations he had thrown at yourself and the doctor as you poked and prodded at him. He was the one who refused local anestetic, not to mention the ridiculous fuss he put up when you tried to remove his helmet. How anyone could remain such a pain in the ass when in so much pain was beyond you.

"I've endured worse for longer." he spoke, answering your unasked questions.

Oh good. Not only was he rude and abrasive, but he was also reading your thoughts without permission. Dick.

His visor turned towards you. Shit. You decided it best to talk before he could comment on that one.

"Rest now. I will make sure no one disturbs you until morning. If you need anything I will be just outside in the infermary." and with that you left him there on the bed, watching you as you left. 

You sat at your desk and pretended to be looking at some paperwork, but really you were mentally calming yourself from an incredible adrenaline rush of being in a room with such an infuriating and terrorfying man.


	3. Chapter 3

All credit to him, The Commander stayed put all the way through the night and even slept in the next morning. You supposed having a 6 inch hole in his side may have had something to do with that. It did tend to make a person pause for a hot second.

You were just considering the logistics of keeping him in for weeks when he clearly didn't want anyone to see him under his mask, when suddenly the door to his room opened. 

"Commander, it is not advisable to be moving around this quickly!" You exclaimed as you stood and walked over to him 

"I have much to attend to." He barks roughly through his mask, begining to stride towards the door.

"But sir, the pain you must be in right now..."

"Is perfectly manageable. I wish to discharge myself. Or do you intend to tell me what I can and cannot do again?" He interrupts, turning to stare you down.

"Of course sir. As you wish. I shall get the necessary form." You reply stoically. You actually pride yourself on upholding professionalism in the work place, regardless of what he may think of you after last night's outburst. 

You go to collect the PADD but pause mid reach. Signing these requires a finger print. That would mean removing his gloves which was probably a hard no. You were almost certain this would likely lead to you having the device thrown back in your face. You instead turn and delve into an ancient filing cabinet in the corner. It was always necessary to keep some paper copies of forms, just in case. 

Handing the clipboard and a pen to The Commander, you note his impatience with the length of time this is all taking. Waves of intolerance roll off him and his foot jiggles, tapping the floor ever so slightly as he scralls in his details and signs. What an insufferably insolent and arrogant man. You were actually almost glad to be rid of him. He hadn't even thanked you or the Doc once during all of this. Some leader.

He hands it back to you. You sigh and place it on the pile of paper work backlogged on your desk.

"Thank you. You are free to go sir. I would advise you not to partake in any strenuous activity or exercise, but I fear it would be pointless. Let us know if there are any complications."

And with that, he turns tail and strides off down the hall as if nothing happened.

It was not untill a good few hours later that you got around to digitising his forms. You did your typical skim before putting it through the scanner. He had ticked all the necessary 'i understand this is at my own risk yada yada yada' boxes. Good. Had dated and signed in the right place correctly. Good. 

You paused. 

Underneath there was a little box headed 'any other comments'. Just a standard box that people almost always ignore unless they are particularly angry or upset with their experience. 

In the neatest cursive you had seen in decades was a comment.

You read it again to make sure.

"Thank you for the impeccable care and consideration regardless of my 'insufferable and insolent arrogance.'"

Well holy cow. That you had not expected.


	4. Chapter 4

Several days passed.

Your life had returned to its normal, relentless routine almost immediately after the unusual incident. On discovering The Commander's departure, the Doc reinstated the wing for general admittance and previous long stayers were returned. 

By the end of the week, it was like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened at all.

Except for one thing 

That sentence kept swimming around your head. You could picture it every time you had a moments break. That perfect, cursive font. 

Almost no one wrote by hand these days. On the odd occasion anyone did, it was hurried and awkward. In being spoiled with the tech that was so readily available, people were becoming somewhat de-skilled in things such as handwriting and calligraphy. 

As a doctor, it was recommended that you have some lessons outside of your studies for the odd occasion when you may need to keep physical notes. It didn't happen often around the core world's, but if you found yourself stationed in the outter rim, chances were it was back to basics. You had actually fallen somewhat in love with the art, finding it calming and satisfying to watch your own hand create on a page.

The Commander though... You couldn't imagine a day in his life when he had had to write. Surely he had always had access to the tech that favoured typing skills over written? It had certainally been a side swipe you did not expect.

As for the content... Well. He had clearly plucked that straight from your mind. He had barely even reacted. You would have put money on him going mental if you had said such a thing out loud. How come you got a pass for merely thinking it? Sure, you can't be held accountable for your thoughts, but was he really controlled enough to understand that? And then to use it as some kind of strange... What... Snide remark? No. Private joke? Maybe? It was all just a little unexpected from someone like him.

That being said, what did you actually know about him?  
Not his real name, or his age. Not even what he looked like, let alone his humour and temperament. All you had was hearsay, and we all know how reliable that can be.

Perhaps there was far more to him than you had ever considered.

You had been considering all of this whilst chewing over a particularly dull and grey lunch in the particularly dull and grey cafeteria. 

A sudden noise broke you concentration. You had been messaged on your PADD. Pulling it up, you found you had a summons notofication. This was not irregular, given your job. 'House calls' and similar were normal. However, a few things here were a little less routine.

Firstly, the location. Your presence was requested in the senior managerial training room. You had never even been on that floor. What on earth was a junior doctor like yourself doing being requested there?

Secondly, in the 'further detail' section where you usually got a breakdown of the injury or ailment so as to know what to bring and expect, it simply stated 2 words. 

'Come alone.'

How terrifying. What in stars name were you meant to do with that one?

You stared at it for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that you would have to go, and immediately. If someone higher up was summoning you, it would not do well to keep them waiting. You swung by the medical bay to make your excuses to the staff and pick up your travel kit, and off you went, using your PADD navigation app for the first time since your first rotation here.

\-----------

On arrival, you came to the large, white door to the training room. You were just wondering what the protocol was for entering (do you knock, is there some sort of code? Do you just enter?) when the door slid open, seemingly of its own volition.

On entering, the room was still and quiet. You looked around. It looked like the standard gym on your floor, only with newer equipment and nicer decor. There was, however, no one to be seen. 

You cleared your throat as if to speak, but lost the confidence before you could start. You didn't even know who you were addressing. Apparently no one if first looks were anything to believe. 

You settled on a quick "Hello?".

Nothing.

"Is anyone in need of medical assistance?"

Nothing.

You were just about to leave when your eye caught something on the bench. Dread filled your mind. 

You looked to your left, to your right. Still no one. You deemed it safe to approach the object. Timidly walking across the rubberised floor, you found yourself staring at a matte black shape. 

You picked it up. 

Jesus it was heavy. You turned it round in your hands and found you were indeed staring at the empty visor of Kylo Ren. Fuck. Was he here?

That was when you heard a groan. It was coming from the shower room. Fuck. Fuck fuck. 

You hurriedly placed the mask back in positon, almost dropping it in your haste, like some child caught shaking the cookie jar. 

Another groan, this one more pained. He clearly was the one who requested medical aid. 

Everything about this situation made your stomach lurch. You wanted to hide. No. You wanted to run. Far far away. There was this immense sense of danger at being here alone with him. You felt like it was a trap. Payback for your clear disrespect on your last meeting. 

But this was just silly and childish, you told yourself. No. You would not run. It was time to be brave and do your fucking job. 

You took a deep breath in and with that you walked towards the shower room''s entrance. 

Then you stopped. 

What now? 

Perhaps you'd best make yourself know. God knows what state of undress he was in. You blushed at the thought of that. You may not know what he looks like, but you had seen enough to know he was human, and also in quite good shape. 

"Ahem... Sir... Have you requested medical attention?"

"Come in." 

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

Gingerly you crossed the threshold and peered around the corner. Looking down you noted drops of bright, scarlet blood along the floor. 

Now either he has injured himself another way, or the silly bugger has torn his stitches. 

At the end of the blood trail was quite the sight. 

A man stood with his back to you, leaning on the counter. He was wearing his normal dark boots and combat style black trousers, but from the waist up he was entirely naked. 

His skin was pale and dotted with freckles. Beneath it, powerful muscles danced as he desperately sloshed water up from the sink over what you assumed was torn stitch work, though you couldn't really see yet. 

Atop his sturdy looking shoulders was a mop of obsidian hair. Not quite the crew cut that was regulation for the troopers downstairs. Nor was it what you expected. At all.

He winced at the water making contact.

"When you're quite done assessing the rest of me, would you mind taking a look at your shoddy work?" 

What? You felt you interest become swallowed by rage.

"Excuse me?" You piped up. Shit. Keep your calm. How did he always manage to get you overboiling so quickly?

With that he turned. 

"Well what would you call this?" He exclaims, pointing at his wound. 

As if the back wasnt surprising enough. His face is the epitamy of the masculine form. Strong jaw line, long prominent nose, some light stubble growing across his chin. And so young. He couldn't be more than 2 or 3 years your senior. Somehow that was the most surprising part.

All of this you hardly noted in the moment however, as you were inundated with rage at being blamed for his blatant disregard for your advice.

Your eyes trailed down his chiseled chest to look at where he was gesturing. He had indeed torn your stitches.

Hell no. Not your fault. You warned him. Maybe it was the obscureness of the situation, or maybe it was the fact he was without his usual garb to remind you who you were talking to, but before you could put yourself in check, you were rising to his accusations with mirrored annoyance.

"I would call that the epitomy of 'I told you so'."

"What?" He replied. This was not what he had expected.

"Well sir," you were slowly losing your confidence, "as you left, against my recommendation as you remember, I gave you some advise. Not to partake in vigorous activity or exercise until you had healed."

"I was only running." He replied with disdain in his voice, like you were the stupidest person he had ever known. 

"That would come under exercise. Sir." You spat, pulling on some gloves from your kit.

"Well... ARGH..." He clutched his side as he learnt back on the counter behind him and swore in a tongue you didn't know, "Can you fix it here or not?"

"I think so." You reply, kneeling down and assessing the wound with your eyes. "May I?" You continue, looking up at him for consent to touch his bare abdomen. 

His eyes meet yours. Good lord, they were quite a unique colour. Had you ever seen such a complex colour? Not quite brown, not quite green. Is this a true hazel? Maybe. You observed that all the anger he seemed to be seething with moments ago is not present there like the rest of his body. His eyes looked scared. 

He seems somewhat taken aback. Looking away from you, he nodded. You took this as your consent to begin the examination. You did a quick check and observed only 4 stitches to have been pulled. You carefully pushed a finger in and found the wound was still quite deep beneath. That explained why it was bleeding so intensely. 

"So you haven't been resting at all then?" You remark.

"Define rest... AH!!!! ... Watch it." He cries through gritted teeth, grabbing your wrist with one of his large hands.

"Apologies." You pull your fingers back from the wound in response to his pain. "Not being on a treadmill. Or utilizing anything in this room for that matter."

"Ah. Well then not exactly."

"Sir. I know you are busy, but you must allow your body to rest."

"I am not weak." He replys,. "Only the weak rest."

"Only the stupidest do not know their body's limits."

 

You stare at him. He holds your gaze this time, some fire returning to his eyes. Silence fell. Neither of you knew what to say. You were at a bit of an enpasse. 

It was at this moment you suddenly became aware that he was still holding your wrist. His hand was burning hot around yours. Your eyes flickered down to look at his large hand. He instantly dropped it. You were suddenly intensely aware of how close you were to him. Half an hour ago you thought you'd never be in his presence again. Now you were not only looking at his uncovered face, but his half naked form. 

He made an odd noise. Was that a scoff? This fucker was in your mind again. Prick. Just when you'd started to warm to him.

"I will re-stich you for now. But you really need to rest it. It's not healing as quickly as I would expect. You also ought to pick up some antibiotics from the unit. Having a hole like that in your side for almost a week is just begging to get an infection!"

You gather your things and prepped him for re-stiching. You didn't even bother asking him about pain relief this time. You knew his answer already. Instead you gave him a 'sharp scratch' warning and ploughed on. His knuckles turned the colour of the bones beneath as he gripped the edge of the counter behind him. Other than that he barely let on how it felt. You thought he was a fool, but you also had to admire his mental strength and physical endurance. 

Once you were done, you washed up in the sink beside him. He threw on his shirt and pushed back his slightly damp hair from his forehead. This had clearly taken its toll on him. You felt a pang of guilt. He was still just a patient after all. You'd seen so many responses to pain before. Maybe he wasn't the ass hole you were making him out to be in your head.

"If that will be all sir..."

"Yes doctor."

"Then I shall take my leave. Remember, rest. Please. And stop in for the pills."

He opened his mouth to retort, but stopped. He simply nodded as he dried his hands on a towel. You doubted he meant it, but you were thankful he respected you enough to pretend at least.

Turning to leave, he suddenly stopped you by calling your name.

"... Thank you. For this. And I would appreciate if details of this visit stayed off the record and off limits for chatting to conworkers. Especially the... Mask-less part."

You simply nodded at him. 

"Thoughts I can't control, but secrets I can do. It's part of the job." You replied, then left. 

Looking at the time, you may as well go straight back to your quarters. Your shift would be over by the time you got back to the wing. You made your way back, ate a snack and got into bed. You were utterly shattered from the last few days. You had barely slept. Though you found yourself rethinking the whole encounter with The Commander. Analysing every detail. Had you been rude? Had he? Or was he just another uncomfortable patient? 

As you closed your eyes you found hazel eyes staring back at you. They were scared.


	5. Chapter 5

Again, your life returned back to normal. You got lost in the chaotic bedlam of the medical unit. Wake, eat, work an illegally long shift, eat, sleep, repeat. It was ruthless, but you could never say you didn't love it. How hard you were working always did have an inverse relationship with your mental calm. The less down time you had, the less time you had for thinking. Thinking wasn't good for an overthinker and relentless self critic like yourself. 

However, yet again your predictable timeline was to be interrupted almost a week later. 

It had been another grouling 12 hour turned 15 hour shift kind of day. You were on your way home to try and eat before you crashed out. It took you 3 attempts to get the access code correct on your quarters you were so tired. On entering, you flung your overcoat and shoes off and was just reaching to pull your scrub top off your head when you heard someone clear their throat.

"You're late."

Your body pulsed with adrenaline. You dropped your shirt and reached for the nearest heavy thing, launching it into the darkness at the vague direction of the voice. You had no idea who was in your room, but it couldn't be good.

You didn't hear it land, though maybe that was because all you could hear was the blood hottly pumping in your ears. The lights flickered on seemingly of their own volition and, blinking, you were met with a doubly odd sight. 

1) the heavy object you had launched (which turned out to be a lump of amethyst) was frozen mid air.

2) The Commander was slumped on your couch, arm outstretched towards the rock, in full uniform save for his helmet which was on your coffee table. Ah. That explains the first one then. 

"What the actual fuck are you doing here?" You panted, plucking the rock from the air and placing it back down on the table.

"Do you often launch semi precious rocks at your guests?" He smirks, shifting himself on the sofa so he is sitting more upright. He winces minutely as he does so, and you suddenly realise why he must be here.

"Jesus, what have you done now?" You ask, ripping your already falling out bun and brushing your hands through your hair on the way to the bathroom medicine cabinet.

"Why do you always assume it is me at fault. I could have been attacked or injured another way..."

"Well let's see, have you been resting? "

He glared at you.

"And have you been in to pick up the pills?"

More glaring. You were rather enjoying yourself.

"Good lord, how hard is it for you to follow orders?"

"I outrank you, you cannot order me..."

"That's where you're wrong. You outrank me in everything except one area. Where your or any others' medical wellbeings are at stake. Then I'm the one wearing the trousers. Lift!" You exclaimed, kneeling before him and snapping your gloves into place.

He sighs, looking defeated and incredibly pissed about it, but he does conceed to your demand, lifting his shirt gingerly. The wound was angry. You couldn't see any pus, but the entire area around it was red and inflamed. Not good.

"I know." He replied to your thoughts.

"That is definitely infected."

"Well no shit."

"We need to get you to the infirmary..."

"NO!" The word errupts ferociously from his chest with a level of authority you had not heard from him since the first time you stiched him up.

"Commander, this wound extends deep into your abdominal cavity. Infection here is no laughing matter. Stars you must already be feeling the effect. Fever, lethargy... Pain."

"You will treat me here and then I will leave. No one can know my... Condition." He replies, eyes closed, a furrow in his brow.

"You will need multiple treatments, and redressing daily. Not to mention anti bacterial washes... Sir this is not a quick stich and go fix. You need to be in an infirmary..."

"I SAID NO!" He roars. The sudden intensity and volume startles you and causes you to fall backwards until you are on your arse rather than ballancing on your knees. He watched you fall, the fire leaving his features which were now tinged with regret. He continued, his voice softer than you thought him capable of... "I must be on a ship to Jakku at 0800 tomorrow morning. This mission cannot be delayed. The supreme leader would not be pleased." He offered the explaination, as if that would somehow make his behaviour more excusable.

You look at him for a moment. Really look at him. His face is slightly sallower than the last time you met, though his cheeks are flushed, likely from fever. Under his tired eyes are the purple marks of one who has worked tirelessly for too long. You could identify with that. His eyes, once again, were scared.

Something twisted in the pit of your stomach. It wasn't pity exactly, but close. You could understand where he was coming from. How many times had you burnt the candle both ends until it almost killed you. Luckily for you, you had always had friends close by to pull you back from the brink. But who did he have? You felt a sudden need to protect him, to stand with him, this man you hardly knew. Before you knew it, you had made a decision you didn't expect.

"Then Sir, I request a place on your mission as field medic."

\---------

You spent the next few hours bathing and washing the wound area. He cursed and roared and occasionally pounded his fist into the cushion beside him, but he didn't move. Again, you were impressed by his mental strength.

Once he was washed and bandaged you went back to the infirmary and picked up a week's worth of supplies plus an oral antibiotic. Thankful, nobody was really around to notice. Night cycles were always quieter. You left a note on the Doc's desk explaining your were required last minite for an unexpected mission, that you wouldn't be in in the morning and that the official paperwork would come through later that day.

When you get back to your apartment, Ren was already sleeping soundly on your sofa. You hesitated in the middle of your living room, staring at him. He looked so peaceful when he slept. The most peaceful you had ever seen this Goliath of a man.. You wondered what a Commander of the first order dreamed about. Did he even dream at all?

He shivered then, and you decided to fetch him a blanket and drape it over his form. You pulled it up over his shoulders and was about to retreat when you saw his lightsaber peeking out from under the blanket. You considered leaving it, but then he moved in his sleep, and you realised you couldn't leave him there with a weapon that he could easily roll onto and ignite in his sleep. Shit. 

Carefully, you lifted the blanket and got a look at how it was attached to his belt. There was a hook like clasp. Carefully, you moved your hands up and had almost unhooked it all the way when a hand grabbed your wrist...

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Er..." This looked bad. Your mind went blank... you looked up and was met with his sleepy face looking down at you. He was surprisingly calm given the intrusion, "I was just trying to remove your lightsaber Sir. I didn't think it safe for you to sleep on it."

He continued to stare at you for what felt like the longest minute of your life. You wished his face gave away any clue as to what he was thinking about. Eventually he let go of your wrist and sighed. "You may be right." He replied, uncoupling it himself and handing it to you. 

You blinked at the heavy object he had given you. It was a lot of trust to simply hand a weapon over to a stranger like that. You placed it on your coffee table next to his helmet. With that you turned and made your way to your room...

"Good night Commander." You said lowly, mostly for your own benefit. 

"Good night Doctor." Came the sleepy reply.

You didn't know why, but that made you smile.

\-------------

Morning came and you found your visitor to be gone. Probably off preparing to leave. The bottle of antibiotics however were gone too. Good boy! You thought.

A note sat on your coffee table where his helmet and weapon had been the night before. 

0800, shuttle bay 4. Don't be late!

It was 0600 hours now. You had just enough time to shower, dress and pack everything you may need for the mission. You had limited knowledge of Jakku but knew it was unbearably hot and sandy in the day and cold at night, so you packed both light and warm clothing, sunscreen, the works. 

By quarter to 8 you were already on your way to shuttle bay 4. On arrival you were greeted by a group of storm troopers. Oh great. Just the sausage fest you didn't need.

"Oh so you are the last addition then? That's strange. We've never had a field medic on mission before." To which you simply smiled and stated you were here for experience as part of your training for field medic. The lie came easily. You imagined they were not to know the real reason, Ren's condition.

Their conversation flowed on, but they made you feel a little uneasy. They were quite ladish and boisterous, and you couldn't help but feel a bit like a meal the way you would catch one looking at you every now and then.

They began showing you around the smallish vessel. It suddenly became apparent that there was not a bed for you in the sleeping dorm. You had been added last minite after all.

"That's alright love... You can bunk with me" suggested a particularly slimy trooper. He started to advance as the others laughed. You shrunk back until your back was pressed against the wall. Fuck. You were just considering fight or flight when they suddenly all stopped and stood to attention. Craning your neck, you saw the commander standing at the door way.

He looked around the room, and stood directly in from of the main offender, staring down at him through his mask as the trooper tried desperately to keep his eyes ahead. After a tense pause, the Commander turned to face you.

"Everything alright Doctor?"

"Eer... Yes Sir. It's just... Well, there are no more beds."

He considered this a moment. The room remained uncomfortably silent. 

"There is a spare camping bed in my quarters. You may remain here or utilize the camping bed. The choice is yours." He offered, which took you by suprise. You didn't know which one seemed more freightening. He clearly wasn't expecting you to answer now, as he turned tail and left with a swish of his cloak.

The men visibly relaxed. 

"Here, thanks for not ratting me in. I didn't... Er... Well I didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sure." You replied flatly, and made your way out of the room. You had decided. Uncertainty was better than that frat mess.

You quietly made your way into what you assumed to be the Commander's chambers. He wasn't there, but the camp bed had been popped up along the opposite wall to his bed. It was odd. You never would have considered him the kind of person who would care about a lowly Doctor's comfort on mission. Especially not if the solution encroached on his personal space. He was, you had gathered, a very private man.

You placed your bag on it and unpacked a few vital things. With that, you felt the engine roar to life and the ship was on its way.

You sat on your bed for a bit, but soon felt awkward just sitting in The Commander's room. You ended up standing and going off in search of said man. You did want to thank him after all. 

It suprise you to find him in the pilot seat. You had assumed a pilot was already on board. 

Plonking down in the empty seat next to him, you looked at the beautiful sight ahead of you. Millions of points of light whizzing past at astronomical speed. You sat there staring for quite some time, totally forgetting what you had come here to do.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He suddenly spoke, the last word dripping with sarcasm, even through the mask.

"Huh? Oh. I just wanted to say thanks. For getting me out of the dorm with Rapey McRapperson." You responded, eyes fixed on the stars, not daring to look over at him.

"I simply thought it easier for you to treat me if we shared a room." He replied. 

"Oh." But if course. How stupid of you to consider he did that for your benefit. You were disappointed. Odd. Had you truly expected he would protect you? You were obviously nothing to him.

"I will however have a stern word with Hux about his men. He will be... Displeased." The Commander offered, clearly thinking about his words very carefully. Again, unexpected.

"Thanks." You replied in a small voice. 

Silence fell again in the cock pit. You started to feel as though you should leave. Surely the Commander didn't want you hanging around, but in all honesty this was what felt like the safest place to be for you right now. You were torn between what you should professionally do and what you wanted. Leave or stay. 

"You may stay, should you wish." He spoke. You were unsure this time if he had heard your thoughts or just sensed the atmosphere into he room. You nodded wordlessly and curled your legs up next to you. Instantly relaxed by the permission, you were asleep in minutes it had been a late night treating him after all.

You were startled back into reality when you heard Commander Ren set the autopilot for the remainder of the journey and stand from his seat to stretch. Yawning, you too sat up and stretched out your legs from the chair. Pins and needles. Great. You noted he had removed his helmet whilst you slept, and also covered you with his cloak, which you were greatfull for. It was rather chilly in the cock pit, what with only glass seperating you both from the cold vaccum of space.

As he stretched, you noted him grasping his side again. It reminded you of your purpose here.

"If you don't mind sir, now would be a good time to wash and dress your wound."

"Hrmmmph." He replied, "is that an order Doctor?"

"Certainly is!" You chuckled with a smirk. You stood, but the pins and needles in your legs sent you scuttling sideways. The Commander shot out an arm which you grabbed onto whilst you steadied yourself. Jesus his arms were solid. Even clothed in all that padding you could feel the power coiled beneath his skin.

You cleared your throat. "Come on. STAT!" You were enjoying pretending to have any power over him. You were half expecting him to come back with some cutting remark, but when you looked over, he simply shook his head and...

"Is that a smile Commander?" You teased, folding his cloak and holding it out for him to take.

"It is just... Very amusing... that you think you could control anything I do for a second. " He stated, biting back any laughter that may have coloured his voice. "Keep that for tonight. It will be cold and you may need it."

You could feel a blush rising up your face. Christ what was wrong with you? The man offered you his cloak. Had it been so long that even the slightest non-douchey sentiment became a pantie-dropper? Note to self... find out if there is a standard issue vibrator available in the commissary when you get back aboard. You clearly needed to get some. Bad.

Fuck... Had he heard that? 

If he did, he had the good grace to ignore it perfectly. That probably meant he didn't. You thought a mental thank you just in case.

Back in his chamber, you prepared the medical gear you would need whilst he readied himself for sleep in the refresher attached to his room. 

When he returned, he was in a pair of simple, black straight leg pyjama pants and bare chested, ready for the exam no less. 

"Would you like to do this now, or shall I prepare myself first?" You asked. Whoops, did that sound weird? Prepare youself for what? Did he get that you meant for bed and not something dodgey... Your heart beat was quickening... Keep it cool for fuck sake...

"I wish to meditate first anyway. Prepare as you must and I should be ready by the time you are."

Well that sorted that then. You gathered the things you needed and went towards the refresher. One look over your shoulder allowed you to see him sit cross legged in the centre of a mat on the floor, his back facing you. Again you marveled at how strong he looked, even with a bandage around his waist. 

When you were done preparing, you came out to find him in that same position. How was something that muscled and powerful able to hold so still? He looked like he was barely breathing. He could have been carved from marble, and was certainly solid looking enough.

"I'm not quite done yet. Join me Doctor." He spoke into the silence as if he had been aware of you there the entire time. You shifted your weight from side to side awkwardly. 

"You can call me (y/n) you know... If you like." Shit. That was a dumb thing to say. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his chest, his arms. Your stomach was doing flips. This was so wrong. He was your commanding officer. You shouldn't lust over him when he is trusting you to behave professionally.

"(Y/n)..." He murmured, thinking it over, testing how it sounded in his voice... "Yes. That seems agreeable. Come, sit. Meditate with me."

You wandered over, now cursing yourself for not considering you would be seen in your sleep ware. You were wearing short shorts and a big comfy T-Shirt of some punk metal band you were into during your grunge phase. Stupid. 

You sat across from him on the edge of the mat and crossed your legs. You had never done this before. You tried your best to mimic his stance and closed your eyes. Was this... It? You were already bored... You never were good at doing nothing.

"The trick is to focus on your breath. Feel the way it enters and fills your body." Your pulse quickened again at that last bit. What were you, some high schooler? "Feel the force required to expell it again. Focus only on this, clear all else from your mind." He coached. 

 

You honestly did try, but it was tough for you to do. You ended up thinking about what the mission would hold, when you would be back, what the medi-unit was doing and how it would be getting on without you. It was short staffed as it is...

"Your thoughts are so erratic... It is distracting!" Ren announced, making you jump.

"S... Sorry sir. I'm not very used to... Well, this."

"I can see that!" He states, somewhat strained. 

"Maybe if we spoke a little... Y'know, just easy small talk. I might be able to focus better with something able to take my focus for a while."

He was silent for a very long time. You almost thought he was going to ignore you completely. But then he reluctantly agreed.

"Fine. Tell me about your home planet (y/n)."

"Well..." You went into great detail about Tatooine, where you came from. You were surprised when he asked some follow up questions, like what family you had there, where you trained for your medical degree. Before long he had asked you a great deal about your life up to that point. You had happily chatted away, eyes still closed, and he had simply listened. It was nice, you hadn't a good chat with someone in a long time. Pretty much since joining the order in fact.

"Why did you choose to come to the Supremacy?" He finally asked after a pause in the conversation.

"Sir?" You replied, not understanding the question.

"Kylo." He said. It took you a moment to understand what he meant. 

"What do you mean... Kylo?"

It was exciting to say his name... It felt like something forbidden. Something you should not do, even with his request. You opened your eyes only to find him staring back at you. His face was still, his eyes wide. Beautiful, autumnal orbs swimming with inquisitivity. His lips, full and pink, were slightly parted as he stared back at you. How long had he been watching your face you wondered? You began to squirm on the spot, feeling the blood rush to your face. 

"You don't make sense." He whispered, shaking his head. "People only come to the Supremacy for a handful of reasons. To fulfil a debt, to push their way to the top or to run. None of those seem to fit you."

You swallowed hard. This had gotten deep fast. Some seconds passed. You didn't drop his gaze, even though you wanted to shy away from the intensity of it all. "Which are you?" You asked him.

It was as if you had said some kind of magic safe word. You could have sworn you physically saw the shutters come down around him. You would get nothing more out of him tonight. He got up, stretched and sat at the table where you had laid out the medical supplies. 

"The hour is late. We have much to do tomorrow." He stated matter of factly, all emotion gone from his voice. The only trace of the conversation you had had at all was the sever furrow in his brow. 

You sighed and joined him at the table. The wound was better, albeit still a concern. You again washed it and packed it was some anti bacterial gel. As you began layering the dressing patches, you realised you were leaning on his leg with your bare forearm. The material was thin, and you could feel the warmth of him seeping into your skin. It felt far more infomal than it should. You were a doctor and used to touching your patients all the time, but this was different. You looked up to see his eyes closed, and his face still screwed up like he was concentrating very hard on something. You deduced he was uncomfortable and immediately took your arm off of him. Looking back down to secure the bandage you saw his hands balled into tight fists beside his legs. 

"Am I hurting you?" You question in alarm.

"No." He manages, but the word is strained. 

You decide to leave it there. He clearly was done talking for tonight .

"Alright, done." you exclaimed, standing and removing your gloves. You cleared the wrappers and used things quickly and then popped into the refresher to cleanse your hands just in case. When you came back out Kylo was already in bed with his back turned to you.

Jeez. He could be so changeable. Just moments ago you had found him to be so gentle and amicable. Now he was positively childish in his mood. You got yourself into bed and the lights turned out instantly, you assumed via the force. 

You made yourself comfortable. You couldn't leave it at that, you felt you had to say something... 

"Goodnight Kylo." You spoke into the darkness.

A very long time passed. You were unsure if he was ignoring you or had already fallen asleep. 

The last thing you registered as you fell into a deep slumber was his deep, baritone voice returning the favour...

"Goodnight."


	6. Chapter 6

You awoke in the early hours of the morning with a start. There was a loud thumping and then a crash. 

It took you a good few minutes frozen in your bed to remember where you were. Another thump and then... was that groaning? 

What the actual shit was going on?

It was far too dark for you to see anything. You stood and found your PADD using the light to get across to Kylo's bed.

As you suspected, it was empty. That could only mean the noise eminating from the refresher was... 

Doctor mentality taking over, you confidently strode over the the refresher door and knocked.

"Fuck off!" You heard echoing from the other side. Rude.

"Kylo, if you are unwell I can assist you. That's why I'm here isn't it?"

You heard yet more choice vocabulary form the other side, the sound of running water splashing and then the door wrenched open.

His hair was damp and pushed back. Your eyes followed a water droplet making a pilgrimage down the side of his face, off the corner of his jaw and onto his shoulder where it began running down his bare chest, finally reaching it's destination, nestled in his navel. His trousers had slipped down on his hips from sleep and you could now see the two deep ridges starting at the top of his hip bones and skirting along the bottom of his abdominal muscles down towards the center and disappearing below the waistband. You could imagine it would become the most perfect V pointing down ultimately to... Oh.

You had to stop that train of thought immediately.

You looked back up and were met with a stern face. His jaw was set tight, his mouth pressed into a tight line. His eyes were blown wide, the colour of coal. He looked like he could burn you with a thought, right where you stood.

"*Ahem*... Er... Can I... Can I help... At all?" Your voice is horse. You have a great deal of trouble getting the words out at all.

"Do you have anything that will make me sleep..."

"Well yeah sure, I reckon I have a few options..."

"Dreamlessly?" 

You faltered. Ah. That was a harder request.

His expression was wild. His is inching closer to you. You can see the heartbeat thrumming through the artery in his neck. Double time. Whatever he dreamt, it has genuinely terrified him. Anything that can terrify Kylo Ren, fearless Sith Commander, scared the everliving shit out of you.

Strange. It was only the night before you had wanted to know what he dreamt. Now it appears you will in fact learn of his nightmares.

"Tell me." You request. He hesitated. You had to make it clear you meant it. You were committed to helping him. You didn't have the time to stop and question why. 

You reached out a hand, and take his softly. 

"Please let me help."

"You can't. No one can." He chokes on his words. "I'm alone. I will always be alone."

Something within you snaps at that. You can relate. You had your own issues. Your own past. You knew how it felt to believe you were entirely alone. 

Your hand holding his travels up his arm and settles on the side of his face. Your other hand mirrors it the other side. 

"I'm with you."

Three little words. Just three escape you. But they had enough power within them to break him. Why do the words that hold the most power always come in threes?

He lent against the door frame for support as he embraced you, his head sinking to connect with your shoulder, his arms encircling your shoulders. You could feel sharp, ragged breaths shaking his entire form. 

Placing your hands on his arms now, you guided him to stand and walk back to his bed where you made him get back in. He instantly turned on his side, showing his back to you as he curled in on himself, trying to make himself small enough to disappear. Ha! Like his 6 ft whatever, broad frame could ever disappear anywhere! Although somehow he did look smaller right now than he ever had. You stood there a second, trying to work out what to do. Perhaps you should leave him to it and hop over to your bed? 

No, that didn't seem right.

Get in with him?

Also not really an option.

You opted to perch on the edge of the bed carefully and rub circles into his back as he cried. At first he tensed at your touch, but you were determined to show him he wasn't alone, so you continued. Eventually you could of sworn you felt every muscle in his body relax. He seemed to melt into his matress and the sobs became less frequent.

You continued this for a good half an hour until he was completely quiet. Was he asleep? You couldn't tell. You stood and crept off to your own bed. Getting in, your mind was too overactive to sleep. What the hell had happened over the last hour? You could barely believe it.

He seemed so vulnerable. How could someone so renowned for strength and power truly be so vulnerable underneath? You really couldn't say.

Your mind kept focusing on the way his body had felt under your touch. Yes he was firm, but he had also been warm and pliable. Part of you wished you were still touching him. God, a few weeks ago, you never even knew what he looked like. Now you had not only looked on his (gorgeous) face, and heard his silky voice, but you were losing track of all the times the two of you had touched. 

A strange feeling came over you. You knew that feeling and squashed it down. You would not allow yourself to be attracted to your Commander. You would NOT.

As you became sleepier you started to shiver without his heat next to you. Reaching to the bottom of your bed you pulled his cloak over you. It smelled of him. You couldn't describe the scent. It was just uniquely his. You snuggled under it and felt instantly calmed.

Sleep took you in the end, but not for long.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I've never really added a note before. I tend to feel it takes away from the immersion of the story. However, I had a few things I really wished to convey.
> 
> 1) Apologise for the sporadic uploads. I use writing as a stress reliever from a quite intense workload. I have a job that requires a lot of work being taken home, and writing gives me a creative outlet that is just for me. The problem is I also am often too brain dead after working a 10-12 hour day and then coming home and working more!
> 
> 2) Thank you to anyone who has hung in and kept reading and leaving comments regardless of # 1. I was suprised that it does actually mean a lot to me to know it has been well received by some people, even though I only really started this for me. It is very much appreciated.
> 
> 3) I know a few people are theorising that this is all cannon as they are on their way to Jakku, but I actually wasn't aiming for that. I just wanted them to do to a place that's a bit run down and where somewhat shady dealings may occur. Plus the weather there will make for some interesting plot I'm hoping. Sorry if this disappoints anyone.
> 
> Right, after all that... The show must go on!!

Silence. 

That was the first thing your conscious mind registered. For the first time since you boarded the craft, there was silence. You stretched your body and sat up, bare feet making contact with the cool, metal floor. You felt no vibrations through the soles of your feet. The air around you was still, no longer humming along with the powerful engine beneath.

Feeling the ache pulsing deep in your muscles from the deep sleep you had roused from, you stretched again, reaching high above your head. Your finger tips tingled. You were still exhausted. 

Reaching over to your PADD you realised the time. After your late night you had barely gotten 4 hours sleep. Well someone was going to be cranky this morning. Speaking of which... Where was Kylo?

You stood and crept over to his bed, which you could already see was empty. Placing your hand on the pillow, you felt the soothing cool of the soft cotton spread through your palm. He had been gone a while then. He must have gone to land. 

It only took you 20 minutes to wash yourself and dress. That was a good thing about being part of the medical team. You were not expected to wear the same garb as the troopers. Just casual wear that was practical for where you were was just fine. You chose a pair of thin khaki combat trousers that allowed you a good range of motion, and a thin, white tank top. Nothing special. 

As soon as you were dressed, The Commander entered. Had he known you were decent? Or just not even considered you may not be? It was hard to imagine he had shared rooms before. Common courtesy was a bit beyond him.

You turned and considered joking about it with him, when you realised something. He too was wearing casual wear. Trousers that almost matched your own bit were a bit darker. He too had gone for white on the top due to sun, though it looked strange considering his normal 'prince of darkness' vibe. It did suit him. The fabric was tight against his form, with short, loose sleeves. Christ, you could see every plain of his abs if you looked closely enough. 

He whipped his shirt off, which broke you spell. What? Why was he? Oh. He had begun to remove yesterdays bandage. Of course. Christ, had you been staring? Get a grip!

"So... To what do we get the honour of you in anything other than your uniform of darkness?" You jest awkwardly, trying to keep your mind on the task of cleaning and redressing the wound. 

Looking up, you are met by a blank face. He makes no move to answer you. Not up for talking then, you think, but just before you look back down to continue cleaning, a small smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. 

"Why? Are you a fan of my new, more revealing wardrobe?" he replies with a smoothness you didn't know he had. Your heart rate picks up a little. Fuck. You'd been caught out.

"No... Just wondering. You look very... Not you-ish." you gesture as you try and come up with the words.

A snigger. Had he been listening to your mind before? Did he know you thought he was... Wait... Scratch that... He's probably still listening. Fuck. 

"I simply need to blend in for this mission. Kinda hard to do wearing a mask and 'uniform of darkness'." he replied, flinching as you gave the wound one last wipe.

You nod. It made sense. The two of you plunged back into silence, but it was comfortable. Finishing your clean, you began to pull out the necessary bits for dressing. This would need to be well adheared. Who knows what it may have to last through whilst on mission. You had just started to place wadding over the wound when he spoke again, this time far more serious.

"Thank you, by the way."

"It's my job sir. It's why I'm here."

"Kylo."

You look up, meeting an intense gaze. His eyes were searching yours. It was like he was waiting, practically on the edge of his seat for you to call him by name. He looked almost pained in anticipation.

"It's my job... Kylo."

Was that relief on his face? Odd. You began to smooth the edges of the sticky dressing cover. As you did so, the tips of your fingers grazed his skin. He was burning hot beneath your touch. Your likely cool in comparison skin left goose bumps in their wake. You were fascinated with the way his body reacted to your touch.  
He shifted under you slightly, and his leg made contact with your side. He did not shift again to move it, opting to just allow this small contact between the two of you. You rubbed along the edges again, and again his body produced a trail of goose bumps in your wake. You could have watched it all day. 

He cleared his throat. 

"I actually meant last night."

Ah. 

"Helping patients sleep is common. Still part of the job." You reply, almost too plainly, in an attempt to cover your body's heightened state. Burning heat flexed through you, culminating in the pit of your stomach. Your body drank in the heat radiating into you from his leg pressed into your side. Something about sharing heat with this man felt so incredibly intimate. Your eyes ghosted up and over his torso. He was built like a God. You felt your pulse quicken and a warm glow take over as your body blushed from head to toe. You squeezed your thighs together as you knelt beside him... A tell tale sign of your body's response to such an attractive man being half naked in close proximity. You had to get yourself under control. Fast. He could so file a suit against you. You were normally so professional. What was wrong with you?

"I've not spent much time in the medi-unit... But I'm not sure hours worth of shoulder massages comes under your job description." he replied, smiling down at you weakly.

Oh fuck. You had so overstepped the mark. You were fucked. Good bye medical career. Over before it barely began.

"I am sorry if I overstepped sir..." you began, withdrawing your hands from him, now done, and begining to pack your things away.

"It's alright!" He replies quickly, cutting off your babbling apology. His hand shoots out and ensnares your right wrist, pulling you away from your bag on the floor and back up kneeling next to him. He rests your forearm on his knee, your hand leaning on his thigh, "I find your touch rather... Agreeable." He continued, looking down at your hand in his grasp, letting go of your wrist and ghosting his fingers over your palm. 

"No body touches me really. I don't normally like it, but you... It feels natural with you." He speaks aloud, but you can't help but feel that you are actually listening to his mind trying to figure it out aloud. He's not so much talking to you as sound boarding next to you. You just so happen to also be the topic up for discussion. 

Now it is your body's turn to react without your consent. As he strokes again up the centre of your palm and up to draw circles on your inner wrist, a trail of goose bumps creeps up your forearm. When he notices this he repeats the action, seeing them ebb as he retreats and return as he performs it again. You feel like some sort of experiment, being observed by some scientist desperate to understand why you are reacting the way you are. You don't entirely mind the thought of him observing you closely.

The air in the room has become thick and hot, and you feel as though there is a static charge to it. Your skin tingles all over. He looks up at you and your heart almost jumps through your chest. His eyes smoulder. His jaw is set strong, mouth pulled into a thin line. You can't help but feel he is desperately fighting with himself internally. To control himself maybe? Or perhaps he was failing to? Who knew?

His hand lifts from your wrist and hovers only a mere centimetre from your skin, traveling up your arm and up to the side of your face. He gently caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers and lifts a tendril of hair from there to behind your ear. 

'Is this ok?" He asks hoarsely. He almost sounds shy.

You swallow and take a moment to form your words, not trusting your voice not to waiver at first.

"Most... agreeable Sir" The word feels wrong in your mouth, in this moment. But you had to hear that permission one more time before you would be truly convinced it was ok. You wait to see if it would come.

"Kylo." His hand pauses, and a drip of concern seems to tinge the look on his face as he searches yours. Perhaps he is worried about the possible power at play here. It's sweet that he to is concerned of overstepping the mark. 

"Most agreeable... Kylo." You repeated, putting a great deal of emphasis on his name. Relief, and the tiniest hint of a smile. How delicious. 

He seems to edge forward ever so slightly, and you see his gaze drop down to your lips, which were slightly parted. You swallow again as he advances towards you, almost imperceptibly slowly. You feel your stomach drop down and feet, heat pool down where your thighs meet. You have to close your eyes, finding the visual of him sinking down towards you too much. You try and control yourself, breathing ragged, heartbeat ringing as blood hotly pumps through your ears. Even though you can't see him, you can feel his presence getting ever closer. The tingling from your stomach surges up and through the centre of your torso and out through the rest of your body. 

You know he is close to you when you feel his warm breath wash over your cheek. Waves of heat are bathing you like the sun bathes the land. The hand that had been on your cheek now drops to your chin, his thumb pulling down your lower lip slightly. Oh fuck. Here it comes. An internal drum roll begins from deep within you. The kind that stems from the delicious anticipation. The kind that can only come from a first encounter. The kind that can never quite be replicated a second time. The more forbidden the encounter, the more delicious the anticipation. Kissing your Commander, who is also your patient, when you should be setting out on a mission... This was practically a feast. Your body thrummed with it. You were almost in ecstacy just from the moment alone.

A screeching sound burnt through the moment; salt through ice. 

Kylo leant his head against yours in fraustration, a low, gutteral growl eminating from his throat. 

The moment was over, although the sound he made was arguably just as exciting for you.

You opened your eyes and leaned back down to clearing your medical pack as he grabbed his communicator form the table and inserted it, barking orders at whoever happened to be on the other end. 

You slung your kit in your backpack and carried it off towards the door, but before you could open it and leave, Kylo called your name much softer than he had been ordering the men around via Comms.

"... This isn't over. I hope?" He finishes on a question, walking towards you gingerly, standing half a metre away from you.

Maybe it was the electricity still in the room, maybe it was the left over excitement still leaking out of your bones. But you boldly took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. Your hand slithered up his chest and rested at the nape of his neck, combing your fingers into the bottom of his silky hair and pulling slightly... You heard the breath hiss out of him in suprise.

"I certainly hope not... Kylo.' you smile almost wickedly, and with that you let go and push off of him, practically dancing out of the room and out of his sight. You didn't turn to check, but you could certainly feel him watch you leave. You found yourself riding a massive endorphin high as you came down from the heady experience on your way out into the dry, sand laden air of Jakku. You felt alive.


End file.
